The Resident Patient
by lilidelafield
Summary: Hawkeye Pierce has disappeared on the way back to camp from Seoul. BJ and Klinger rush out to search for him...


For any and all medical experts among my readers, I am not a doctor, a nurse, or even a patient if I can help it, so please forgive any medical ignorance you pick up in the course of this tale. Any medical conditions, treatment or jargon are introduced by me for the sake of storytelling and not necessarily in the interests of medical accuracy.

I do not own any of these characters. I only wish I did.

M * A * S * H

A RESIDENT PATIENT

"Look BJ, there's no reason to panic just because Hawkeye is a little late getting back from Seoul. You know what he's like. There's probably a damned good reason!"

"You think he'll be off on some crusade or other. Maybe, you're right, but what if he's hurt? The word is there are snipers out there!"

Colonel Potter rolled his eyes and yelled out.

"Klinger! Get on the phone to ICORPS. Find out how long ago Hawkeye left the conference."

They could hear Klinger on the phone, and they heard the receiver clatter back into place. The next moment, the company clerk burst into the room.

"He left this morning Colonel! They say he should have been back at least two hours ago!"

Potter frowned, for the first time admitting the possibility that something might have happened to their absent friend.

"Let me go and look for him Colonel!" BJ begged. "If something has happened to him out there, we can't leave him overnight can we? He's out there sitting in the middle of a war!"

"Very well BJ. You and Klinger can take a jeep and look for him, but take the radio with you. I wanna know what's going on!"

"Thanks sir!" BJ was already dashing from the room and yelling to Klinger at the same time.

Hawkeye lay in the mud, with his head and shoulders half in a freezing pond, his lower half trapped beneath the overturned jeep. He was frozen stiff, shivering uncontrollably, only part of which was due to the cold, he knew. His stomach and his side was agony, and he was unable to move either of his legs, although whether that was due to paralysis or to being trapped, he could not be certain. He was aware that he had lost a lot of blood, and he had been trying frantically to stay alert for the past two hours, but now he was weakening badly.

"Dammit BJ where are you?" he thought desperately, fighting an overpowering urge to sleep. If he slept, he might never wake up. He had lain there and called for help until his voice had given out. He began to hallucinate.

He saw his father drifting toward him as though on ice, arms outstretched, but as they were about to embrace, he was being wrenched away by some unseen foe, unrelenting and un-phased. He opened his mouth to scream in pain and anguish, but no sound emerged. He opened his eyes and saw BJ's face looming over him. The face spoke.

"My God, what the hell happened here? Klinger, get my bag, quickly!"

Hawkeye could not decide if the image were real or another hallucination. The pull of the deepening blackness was growing irresistible. BJ saw his friend's eyes begin to close and slapped his face frantically.

"Hawk! Stay with me Hawk! Come on!"

"B. …are you real?" The voice was so feeble, it could hardly be heard.

"As real as you are ole' buddy. Now I need you to stay awake for me. Can you do that Pal?"

"So tired Beej…so tired…"

"I know Hawkeye, but you gotta stay awake! Klinger, let's get this jeep off him!"

Even the two men heaving together could not move it very much. BJ pounded his fist into his hand with mounting frustration. Klinger glanced around and pounced on a large boulder several feet away.

"Captain, what if we use this rock? We need only get Hawkeye out from under the jeep…"

BJ clapped him on the back, and together they heaved the rock into position and with a lot of hard work and heavy puffing, they managed to move the jeep far enough in the air to be able to push the rock beneath it and prop it up. With the small amount of space that afforded, BJ and Klinger between them hauled Hawkeye clear of the wreckage. The two men blenched at the sight.

Hawkeye was drenched in his own blood. BJ examined him and carefully and as swiftly as he could, Klinger hanging on his every word.

"Legs seem intact, just badly bruised, that's all. Need full X-Rays when we get back to the camp. Serious stomach wound here, and his left side…we'd better stop the bleeding before we move him any further…"

BJ was working frantically even as he spoke, administering vital first aid until he was sure that Hawkeye would travel. As he and Klinger shifted him onto the litter, he screamed in agony. His head lolled to one side, his eyes only half-closed. BJ Glanced at Klinger.

"Help me!"

They hoisted the litter onto the jeep and BJ hung onto it for dear life.

"Klinger, hit it!" he yelled.

As the litter-jeep's tires bit the road, they left behind them Hawkeye's upturned jeep, a deep hole left by a mortar shell, and a deep pool of blood slowly seeping into the stagnant pond.

BJ kept a very close watch on his friend during the long and bumpy trip back to the 4077th. Hawkeye was seriously hurt, and it was impossible to tell the full extent of his injuries until they got him into the OR. He was already in a critical condition. BJ was sure that if they had not found him when they did, Hawkeye's next journey would have been to the morgue. The thought terrified him. He had already called ahead to warn Colonel Potter of what to expect, and he would have everything ready by the time they got there.

He yelled back to Klinger.

"Can't we go any faster? His BP's dropping off fast! We're losing him!"

Klinger was already driving as fast as he knew was safe on these treacherous roads, but he knew how worried BJ was.

"Hang on sir!" he bellowed.

He slammed his foot to the floor and hung grimly onto the steering wheel as they hurtled and crashed and almost flew over bumps and down large potholes. He skidded to a halt in the compound of the 4077th, with his foot hard on the brake and his hand hard on the horn. Personnel ran in from all sides, white-faced with shock when they saw the condition of their chief surgeon. Potter, Hunnicut and Winchester worked on Pierce together, with virtually the entire camp crowded into pre-op waiting for news.

Colonel Potter whistled as the full extent of the damage became clear.

"God, look at this!" He said, in a hoarse whisper. "Shot twice by sniper fire, and the jeep is hit by a shell. So much damage here. See here, the flesh is torn…that must have happened in the explosion…a hundred metal fragments…punctured the lung…I can see infection starting there if we're not careful."

"Blast injuries too, his insides are pretty shook up, Colonel. God, all this internal bleeding, it's a wonder he's still alive. Kelleye, how's he doing?"

Nurse Kelleye, in charge of vital signs looked up briefly.

"Very weak and getting weaker. He's hanging on doctors. Just don't take your time."

Winchester said very little, but glowered beneath lowered eyebrows.

"Nurse, wipe."

As a nurse wiped the sweat from his face, Potter and Hunnicut exchanged glances. If even Winchester was feeling the pressure, things must really be looking bad!

The operation, even with the three of them working together, took longer than any of them would have liked, and by the time they were finished, Nurse Kelleye was becoming seriously worried.

"Colonel, he's only just alive sir! If his vital signs drop off a single point more, he'll be technically dead."

The Colonel clapped his arm around her shoulders.

"You did excellently lieutenant. Now, I need you to set up this equipment in Post Op; screen off one of the beds. We can't afford to upset the other patients."

Kelleye nodded and hurried away, and Potter turned to Major Houlihan.

"Major, Pierce will need round the clock one-to-one care until he's out of danger. Will you arrange a rota? I'll take on his patients."

Margaret nodded.

"Yes Colonel."

As the three doctors left the OR, a concerted rush of worried personnel greeted them.

"…How is he sir?"

"…Will Captain Pierce be alright Colonel?"

"…He won't die will he sir?"

BJ glanced round at the crowd with a hunted look, and quickly vanished into the scrub room. Winchester followed closely behind him. As they sank down on the bench, they could faintly hear the Colonel trying to reassure everyone in the next room. BJ removed his surgical hat and threw it at the laundry bin with some vehemence. Winchester rubbed his face wearily.

"BJ…Pierce is a peculiarly determined individual you know. There's no reason to expect the worst."

BJ nodded.

"I know Charles. I just hate to see him like that…I'd take his place in a second."

Winchester looked sympathetic.

"I'm sure you would, but given the choice, I'm sure Hawkeye would disagree with you. You have a wife and a child to think about."

"Hawkeye is the best friend I've ever had. He's the one person around here who keeps me sane. I can't imagine what kind of a hell hole this place would be if he weren't around."

"Now you're being maudlin. Come on Hunnicut. You're coming with me to the officer's club. I'm buying you a drink."

BJ shook his head.

"Thanks, but I'd rather sit with Hawkeye for a while."

"You have all night to do that if you want to, but right now you are exhausted and thirsty. This is a one-time only offer, so if I were you I'd take me up on it. Anyway Hunnicut, if you refuse me, I'll make it an order!"

BJ smiled weakly, in spite of his worry and fatigue.

"Alright Charles, you win, but it'll have to be quick."

The two men left the room. As soon as they were gone, Potter appeared from the other side of the curtain and smiled softly to himself as he changed.

"Attaboy Winchester!" he murmured.

Major Margaret Houlihan looked round briefly as the Colonel approached Hawkeye's bed.

"How's he doing?" he asked her. She shook her head worriedly.

"Still touch and go, Colonel. Breathing is shallow and irregular. Pulse and blood pressure are not much better. It's like he's alive, but only just. No signs of waking up."

"Pupil reaction?"

"Nothing."

Potter shook his head, looking worried.

"Coma. I was afraid of that. Keep a sharp watch on his breathing Margaret. Ventilate him if necessary."

"Yes sir. Colonel, where's Captain Hunnicut? Somehow I was sure he'd be here, camped beside the bed."

Potter grinned.

"Winchester's taking care of him. I rather think he intends to slip a sedative into BJ's club whisky."

Margaret chuckled.

"Well, I'd keep away from BJ when he wakes up then sir!"

Potter rested his hand lightly on the Major's shoulder for a moment.

"I have a report to make out on this boy. I can't leave it for Klinger. I'll look in again in a little while."

Major Winchester was actually quite surprised at the ease with which he managed to get the sedative into his colleague's drink, and he sat and hid his satisfaction as he watched BJ down his dosed whiskey in a single gulp and demand another. BJ soon fell asleep with his head on the table, and Winchester grinned and beckoned to the barman.

"Igor, help me get sleeping beauty here back to the swamp will you?"

Igor and Winchester between them carried BJ back to the swamp and lay him on his bunk. Igor removed BJ's boots.

"Anything else Major?"

"No thank you. You can skedaddle now."

Igor vanished, and Winchester gently covered BJ with a blanket, and crept from the tent.

Throughout that night, it is safe to say that very few people slept well. In fact, the only person who slept at all was BJ Hunnicut, the unknowing victim of the sedative conspiracy. He was dragged out of his bed the next morning by Winchester to the daily senior staff meeting in Colonel Potter's office. As they waited for the Colonel to arrive, it was curiously quiet…the senior staff's most talkative and unpredictable officer, Hawkeye Pierce conspicuously absent.

Hunnicut was silent and morose; angry at being tricked and sedated, and desperately worried about his best friend. Major Winchester seemed, at least on the surface, exactly as normal, although his lowered eyebrows and furrowed brow showed he was somewhat preoccupied. Houlihan was openly pacing the floor, while Father Mulcahy stood at the window with his arms folded across his chest, thoughtfully chewing a knuckle as he stared out across the compound. Colonel Potter entered the room, looking weary.

"Sorry I'm late. Alright, lets get down to business…"

"Yes, lets do that!" BJ put in suddenly, in a loud voice. "Who's idea was it to put me to sleep last night? What if something had happened to Hawkeye during the night? How could you do that?"

The Colonel put up a hand, and the tirade ended abruptly.

"It doesn't matter whose idea it was BJ. If you stop panicking and start thinking logically for a minute, you'll know the answer to your question. With Pierce out of action, I need you to be in top form. The casualties won't stop coming in just because Hawkeye is laid up. Given the choice, you would have spent the whole of last night with Pierce in Post-Op, and this morning you would be suffering from exhaustion, excess worry and sleep deprivation, and in no fit state to operate. We're expecting a heavy load of casualties within the next three hours or so. Now though, you've had a good rest, plenty of sleep, and you're as ready as you'll ever be for whatever comes."

BJ hung his head.

"I'm sorry I yelled Colonel. I'm just so worried about Hawkeye. How is he?"

Margaret stopped her pacing and perched herself on the edge of the desk.

"Not doing terribly well actually Captain." She said, and explained further.

"He's in a coma. Breathing shallow and irregular. We've been ventilating him for half the night. Blood pressure still low, pulse feeble and erratic."

"We can't lose him Colonel…we just can't. If Pierce wasn't around, I'd have gone stark raving mad by now."

"We all would!"

BJ swung round and Mulcahy smiled shyly. It was he whom had spoken.

"I've had a sleepless night, BJ, Colonel. All night long, I've had one person after another in my tent, looking for some kind of reassurance, or a reason perhaps for why this has happened to Hawkeye of all people. Most of the camp personnel have spoken to me since last evening. I'd never realized quite how much Pierce has become part of the furniture around here. I can't get out of my mind something Klinger said to me. He said that Hawkeye was the one person in the camp who understands this place properly. He said that Hawkeye comes off as being a habitual prankster and joker, but that isn't it. He understands people in his own way as well as Sidney Freedman does, and the effects the horror of this place can have on people. He has his own unique cure for it. He knows that while people are laughing at his pranks, or even getting mad at them, they're not thinking about their other problems; this war, the death and the suffering, the homesickness, or the unspeakable boredom."

Potter nodded.

"Pierce is a rare one alright. And if he were to see all of you moping like this he would be shocked. Now is not the time to lose your faith in him! He can heal others, why do you think he can't heal himself? He has the same chances of survival as everyone else who comes through here! That is ninety-seven point eight percent. I'd say those were pretty good odds. Wouldn't you?"

He lowered his voice slightly.

"Listen all of you. The Father here is quite right in what he said about Hawkeye. That is the very reason we have a whole camp full of miserable people out there who, like you, cannot imagine the war without our chief clown. Camp morale is low enough at the moment, without all the officers making things worse."

"So you expect us to walk about smiling sir?" muttered BJ sarcastically. Potter rolled his eyes.

"I'm saying, _Captain_ , I want you all to stop being so damned pessimistic! This isn't some kid we're dealing with here! This is Hawkeye! You all know how he feels about this war and about being stuck out here. You think Hawkeye of all people will give in to the North Koreans without making a damned hard fight of it?"

He could see he had made his point. He dismissed them all, and followed BJ into the Post Op. A temporary wooden screen separated Hawkeye's bed from the rest of the ward, and behind it they found Nurse Bigelow watching her patient closely.

"Any improvement nurse?" Potter asked her as BJ knelt close beside his friend. Bigelow stood up.

"Slight improvement sir. He's breathing easier than last night, and his BP is up by two points, both now in a more regular rhythm. Only, there's something else Colonel. His temperature is up. I was about to send for you."

Potter took the chart from her and frowned.

"Temperature of 102 degrees? I don't like the sound of that. Start him on penicillin and keep an eye on that temperature."

BJ looked round.

"I'll sit with him for a while Colonel, until those choppers arrive."

Potter nodded.

By the end of the day, Pierce's temperature had soared to 105, and his colleagues, in a last-ditch attempt to bring it down, had collected all the ice they could find and lay him out on top of it, almost like a can of beer. Sweat poured liberally from his face, whilst they huddled in their coats and sweaters as a below zero cold spell swept over the camp. Those sitting beside Hawkeye could feel the heat emanating from him. Potter shook his head as he and Winchester poured over Pierce's chart.

"All I can think of is he picked up an infection or disease from that pond."

Major Winchester concurred.

"Maybe it's some local strain of pneumonia?" he mused. Potter nodded.

"It's something damned like it, but worse than anything I've ever seen. The problem is we know so little about Korean diseases. If it were pneumonia, we'd hear it in the lungs, but there's nothing. His lungs are clear."

He stared at Hawkeye's still form for a moment.

"Winchester, take some blood from him, and we'll do a full work-up in the lab."

Winchester nodded, looking concerned.

The three doctors spent the night in the lab, examining the blood samples in minutest detail. Finally a weary BJ cried out.

"Hey, look at this. I think I have it…"

The others peered through his microscope and nodded.

"Now we know. So simple, but how did he get a blood infection?"

"Maybe he was lying around beneath that jeep for longer than we think, who knows? A filthy wound, exposed to dirty water and mud for hours on end, exacerbated by cold weather. When Klinger and I found him, he had his head in the pond. A chill around the head?"

"Well, whatever the cause was, we now know what we're dealing with." Potter declared. "The fact is, knowing hasn't helped us very much. There's nothing we can do for it that we're not already doing. Penicillin and common sense."

It quickly became clear that the 4077th was a different place these days. As Sidney Freedman pulled into camp three days later for the weekly poker game, he sensed immediately a different atmosphere. The place usually had an underlying buzz about it, everyone busy making their little part of the war a slightly less gruesome place. Now things were changed.

No chattering groups of laughing nurses passed by as they went about their business. Things were silent, even morose. Faces were long and worried looking. Sidney was instantly aware that some monumental tragedy must have occurred to affect everyone as profoundly as this. He made a beeline, as was his wont, for the Swamp. He found BJ sitting alone, writing a letter. He looked up.

"Hey Sidney!"

Sidney sat on Hawkeye's suspiciously tidy bunk and removed his hat.

"Hi BJ. What gives around here today? I've not seen this many miserable faces since the draft board."

For answer, BJ wagged his head toward Hawkeye's bunk. Sidney glanced down at it and back at BJ's long face. Something clutched at his throat suddenly.

"Hawkeye? Where is he? Has something happened to him? His bed's not been slept in…for some time by the looks of it."

"Come with me Sid."

With his heart pounding, Sidney followed BJ across the compound and into the Post Op ward. Behind a screen at the farthest end, lying still and silent, eyes closed and surrounded by tubes and wires and looking horribly unlike himself, was Hawkeye Pierce. Sidney was stunned.

"God, what the hell happened? How long has he been like this?"

"We don't know exactly what happened to him Sidney. He was hit by sniper and mortar fire. We found him in a frozen pond, trapped beneath his jeep. We think he'd been there for some time too."

"Will he be alright?"

BJ closed his eyes briefly.

"It's been over three days now Sid. He's in a coma. He has a bad fever. Last night we ran out of ice to cool him. It's back to plain cold water. We'd move him to the VIP tent, where it'll be cooler for him, but it would be too dangerous to move him even that far. It's looking really bad for him Sidney."

Sidney was stunned. He knew better than anyone what a valuable asset Hawkeye was to the 4077th. The power to help morale by distraction was an imperative in a place like this, and Hawkeye was a natural. Whether people were laughing at his jokes, or getting irritated at his pranks, or even shocked by them was irrelevant. Whilst their attention was concentrated on Captain Pierce, the war became little more than a noisy inconvenience. BJ made an ideal partner-in-mayhem for Hawkeye, but he was not a master clown. He was a loyal fellow conspirator, but not the master craftsman. The biggest shock though, was the realization of how much he, Sidney would personally lose if Hawkeye were to die. Hawkeye was a brilliant surgeon and a good friend. He would go out on a limb any time for a friend, without even thinking twice. He would do anything for anybody.

He forced himself to think more positively. If anyone were to survive, it would be Hawkeye. He could not imagine for a second Pierce willingly letting the North Koreans end everything for him thousands of miles away from Maine. No. He would fight with every ounce of his strength and to his last breath; and even with the faintest chance of winning, Pierce would take it. He made his way to the Colonel's office and knocked on the door.

"Come in!" came Potter's voice from inside. He looked up and grinned.

"Doctor Freedman! Good to see you Sidney."

Sidney sat down and grinned lightly.

"Yours is the first smile I've had since I arrived. Looks like the whole camp is suffering from Hawkeye Pierce withdrawal."

"You've heard?"

Sid nodded.

"BJ took me to see him. What's the prognosis Colonel? Honestly?"

"Honestly? Fair, but no more. In figures something like twenty percent?"

"Turn that around and you're giving him an eighty percent chance of dying. No wonder most of them out there are worried out of their minds."

"I know. But you know Pierce at least as well as I do Sidney. Since when has he paid any attention to the odds? If you tell Hawkeye that it would be almost impossible for him to achieve something, what would he do? Listen to you and give up the idea?"

Sidney chuckled. No, that was not Hawkeye at all. He watched as Potter poured a small whisky for them both, and took a sip.

"Do you really believe that Colonel? Do you really think he'll be alright in the end?"

Potter smiled sadly.

"Well, there is a part of me that _is_ afraid of losing him. He's unique and irreplaceable. But I've seen a lot of things in my life Sidney, and met a lot of people. Most of them would be gibbering loonies by now if they had experienced half of what Pierce has since he's been over here. He's a stronger character that almost anyone I've ever known, with I think the biggest heart of them all. Pierce won't stop fighting easily."

Sidney nodded.

"Well I must say I needed to hear you say that, but he doesn't look too good right now. Any hope of the fever breaking sometime soon?"

"Well, the fever is the fly in the ointment, Sidney. Even with the drugs, if the fever doesn't break soon, we might as well start digging right away. What does scare me is the real possibility of brain damage…the brain boiling away for too long is not a good thing. Come to think of it, the longer he is in a coma the bigger the chance of brain damage. A tragic thought for a surgeon of Pierce's caliber."

Sidney shook his head in bewilderment.

"Colonel, BJ was telling me that it would be a lot better if you could move Hawkeye out of the Post Op, but that it would be too dangerous. But from what you tell me, it seems just as dangerous not to move him. From the temperature outside in the compound, I'd say that ought to be enough to break the hottest fever…wouldn't you?"

Potter thought about it for a long moment. Weighing the possibilities, and finally came to the conclusion that Sid was right. Besides, faced with the same choices, what would Pierce himself choose to do? He nodded.

"You're right Sidney. It's the only thing to do, and the time is now or never."

Within ten minutes, the 4077th had the upsetting experience of seeing its best loved character, stripped almost naked and covered only by a thin sheet, wheeled comatose and soaked in feverish sweat into the freezing compound. The temperature outside was minus thirteen, and the heat still radiated from Hawkeye as if from a small fire. He was wheeled slowly across the compound and into the VIP tent. Colonel Potter sat with Margaret Houlihan watching their friend's struggle for survival. After some time shivering in the freezing cold, Potter gave Margaret the nod, and immediately she was up and tucking woolen blankets tightly around the comatose figure.

"I hope this works Colonel. He can't hold on much longer."

"There's always the frozen river, Major."

Margaret looked concernedly at her commanding officer.

"Isn't that rather hard on the heart?"

"You think this isn't? We don't have a choice any more Margaret. You look beat. Why don't you go and take a rest?"

"What about you Colonel? You've not slept since the start!" she began hotly. Potter nodded patiently.

"I know, I know. BJ's down at the local village with nurse Baker treating a sick child. You and I are going to bed. Winchester is on duty in Post Op. You can send Klinger in here on your way past, and he can report to Winchester if there is any change with Hawkeye."

Margaret coughed deliberately and quickly wiped something from the corner of her eye.

"He will be alright sir? We will get him back won't we? Exactly as he was?"

Potter raised a single eyebrow.

"I thought you and Pierce didn't get along too well?"

She smiled.

"He grows on you Colonel. Well, goodnight."

Klinger was dreaming when Major Houlihan awakened him, but as soon as he learned he was to sit with Captain Pierce for the next few hours, he was up in a moment. He turned up at the VIP tent in double quick time. Colonel Potter was checking the patient over thoroughly, once again. He turned to Klinger and clapped him around the shoulders.

"Now Max, its important you don't go to sleep, is that understood? His life could depend on it. Okay, now keep a sharp eye on him. Watch his breathing. It's stable for now, but that could change in a flash. His temperature is still way up through the roof. Look out for any sign of the fever breaking. The slightest change, however slight, and yell from the doorway for medical assistance. There'll be two sentries on duty tonight, and one of them will fetch help. Whatever you do, don't leave this tent, even to use the latrine. I'll see you in a few hours."

Klinger settled down on the hard stool beside the bed, anxiously watching as heat and perspiration soaked Hawkeye's face, hair and pillow. He shook his head.

"Come back to us Hawkeye. Come back to us sir. We miss you."

About five hours later, an agitated Klinger roughly shook Colonel Potter awake.

"Klinger? What is it? Who's with Pierce?"

"Major Winchester is with him sir. You have to come sir. Please!"

Potter dragged on his dressing gown and stumbled across the compound after Klinger. For the life of him he couldn't guess from Klinger's manner whether he ought to be expecting good news or bad. Fearing the worst, he opened the door of the VIP tent and crept inside. Winchester was taking Pierce's blood pressure, and recording it on the chart. He met the Colonel by the door. He had a curiously pleased expression on his face.

"Klinger sent for me Colonel." He said, "Klinger noticed a tiny movement…" he paused to let it sink in, and then continued, "He noticed that Hawkeye was moving his eyes slightly, beneath the lids."

Potter stared at him.

"Dreaming?"

Winchester nodded.

"That's why I called for you sir. I think our redoubtable Captain Pierce is starting to win his fight. If he is moving his eyes…"

"…Then he's coming out of his coma."

Winchester nodded.

"There's something else too. The fever is gone."

Their eyes met. Winchester nodded.

"BJ got in two hours ago. I'd better wake him."

Two hours later, the entire camp assembled in the Mess tent, with the exception of BJ who was sitting with Hawkeye, and Nurse Watson who was watching Post Op. There was still the quiet air that Sidney had noticed the day before. By now everyone knew that there had been no little activity around Pierce through the night, but few of them understood what it all meant. Potter stood up and cleared his throat. He got silence at once.

"Okay everyone, I know you all want to know the latest about Captain Pierce. You probably all are aware that yesterday evening things were looking very serious indeed. In fact, for several hours it looked as though we were going to lose him. Well, I'm happy to report that today we have better news. His fever is broken, and he is beginning to show the first signs of coming out of his coma. He's not with us yet remember, and there is still some way to go, but he's still fighting, and he's starting to win."

Sidney Freedman noticed a pleased buzz in the air at the news, although he was relieved to note that everyone restrained themselves from the temptation to break into applause. The chatter that resumed following the news was a great deal livelier than it had been of late. Sid remarked on it to Colonel Potter.

"It's pretty scary Colonel, how the morale of an entire camp can revolve around one individual."

"Well, I wouldn't say it _revolves_ around Hawkeye…I certainly wouldn't say it in his hearing!"

Sid laughed. Potter chuckled too.

"…but I admit I was surprised how far morale plummeted when they all learnt that they might lose him. What can you do about that?"

Sidney sipped his coffee.

"It's all perfectly natural, Colonel. Think about the possibility of Pierce being sent home by the army. They would miss him just as much, but morale would not suffer quite the same way because they have time to say goodbye to him, each in his own way. But _this_ …"

He shook his head. "This is what hurts the most. An accident or an attack, or maybe a combination of both, who knows? And their favourite joker is snatched from them without warning. Those who were mad at him, those who had hurt him, laughed at him, cried with him…nobody gets the chance to say goodbye, or to make their peace. It's the death that snatches suddenly and without warning that hurts so much by its being unexpected. You expect your friend to always be there, and when suddenly they're gone…"

Potter nodded. He reckoned that Sidney was right. Sidney stood up.

"Listen, would you mind if I go and sit with Hawk for a bit?"

"Go ahead Sid. Call if you need anything."

"Thanks, I'll do that."

Sidney found BJ rooted to his place beside the bed, watching his friend's face intently. Sidney drew another stool up beside BJ's and leant forward.

"He looks a lot better, BJ."

Hawkeye was now moving his head slightly, and his eyes seemed restless beneath the closed lids. There was no longer any sign of the fever.

"How are his vital signs?"

BJ did not reply, so Sidney cast his eye over the chart. Still very weak, but regular was the general drift. The temperature was exactly normal. He glanced sideways at BJ. BJ was not an easy man to read.

"Are you alright BJ?"

"Fine."

Sid kept on looking silently at BJ until finally BJ relented a little.

"Alright Sid, you got me."

"I know you're worried about him. That's natural. But since he seems to be doing a lot better, you should be feeling a little better, but you're not. What is it?"

"Sidney, _I_ should've gone to that conference instead of him, but we had a minor disagreement, _I_ got _myself_ dead drunk and was in no fit state to go _anywhere._ Colonel Potter had to send Hawkeye in my place. It should be me…it should be me…"

"That sort of thinking is self defeating BJ and you know that. None of us can predict what might happen. When we are faced with problems, all we can do is handle them the best way we can. When Hawkeye wakes up, try your argument on him and see what he says."

The fifth day after the accident came and went. It was evident that Hawkeye was still fighting. As his serious injuries healed until he was finally out of danger, some of them against quite startling odds, it was clear that it had been as much due to his own strength of will and determination as to good doctoring. But as for coming out of his coma, he had made very little further progress, although he was obviously still fighting. The sixth day, the seventh day, then the eighth day dawned, crisp and cold, but finally a point or two above freezing. He had been moved back into Post Op in the hope that the bustling activity would help to stimulate him back to wakefulness again.

The evening of the eighth day found Major Houlihan on duty in the Post Op ward. She paused by the bed of Private FitzSimmons. His body cast had come off that morning, and he was due to ship out to the 121st the next morning. He had been Hawkeye Pierce's patient. She found the man sitting on the edge of his bed and glancing repeatedly toward the bed at the end of the ward, where the skillful surgeon whom had saved his life still lay almost lifeless himself.

"Penny for your thoughts Private?"

He started, almost guiltily. Margaret smiled and sat on the stool beside his bed.

"Something on your mind, soldier?"

"Yes ma'am. Doctor Pierce."

She nodded, stifling a sigh and tried to look encouraging.

"I know, but he's out of danger."

"He saved my life, Major. I thought I was a goner when I came into this place. But he patched me up just like new."

"Yes, Hawkeye's the best."

"I just wish there was some way we could help him. Wake him up, make him well again."

"He'll wake up. He was very badly hurt. Worse than you were."

"Yeah, well I was lucky. I had the best surgeon on the base to patch _me_ up!"

Margaret was stunned for a moment. Then she recovered herself and leaned forward.

"Have you ever known anyone in a coma before?"

To her surprise, he nodded.

"My cousin Nellie. She was only seven. She got hit by a truck right outside her own home, and she was in a coma for three months. When she finally woke up she was like a baby. Some things she learned to do for herself again, but she was never again the kid she had been before. She can barely talk, and she has no control over her tongue, so she dribbles all the time. She lost a lot of her memory too, and finds it hard to learn or remember anything at all. Mentally she has never managed to get much further than age ten or eleven. Yesterday was her twenty-fifth birthday. When she was seven she could play Mozart and Mendelsson on the violin, the cello and the piano. Now she can't even tell those instruments apart. What if doctor Pierce doesn't wake up soon Major? How likely is it that he'll wake up exactly the person he was before? How do you know he won't have suffered brain damage or severe memory loss? I'm scared for him ma'am. I want him to be okay. I owe him my life. I want him to understand me when I thank him."

In spite of herself, Margaret found tears in her eyes.

"I'm very sorry to learn about your cousin, Private. And believe me when I say that we all feel the same way as you do about Doctor Pierce. Why don't you go over and talk to him?"

"Talk to him? Do you think its true that coma patients can really hear?"

She shrugged.

"I don't know, but I really hope they can. Otherwise I've been wasting my time."

He smiled for the first time, and Margaret left the room and slipped into Klinger's office. She found him on the phone, shouting to make himself heard over several thousand miles of static.

"Who!? Sorry, I can't hear…Oh, Pierce…! Doctor Pierce? You mean you want Doctor Pierce? Oh, you are Doctor Pierce!" The confusion on Klinger's face cleared suddenly as the penny dropped.

"You're Captain Pierce's father! Hang on sir, I'll get the Colonel!"

Klinger dashed through to Colonel Potter's office and burst in. Margaret followed curiously.

"Colonel, it's Doctor Daniel Pierce on the phone. Hawkeye's father!"

The Colonel dropped his pen as if it had suddenly become too hot, and grabbed the phone. Margaret and Klinger listened breathlessly to Potter's half of the conversation. Potter listened to Hawkeye's father's worried questions, thinking how much he sounded like his son. He answered Doctor Pierce Senior's worries as well as he could, knowing that, as a physician himself, this worried father understood exactly what he was being told…and also what he was not. When the call ended, he knew that Hawkeye's father was reassured that his son was in no immediate danger of dying, but that other hurdles still lay ahead, and aching to hear his son's voice. He shook his head as he put the phone back on its rest and looked up.

"If anything like this ever happens to me Margaret, don't tell Mildred a thing. I would hate to think of her worrying and fretting for me the way that poor fellow is fretting about Hawkeye. If I live, she'll never have had to worry. If I die, then at least as far as she's concerned it was quick…"

Margaret and Klinger both nodded, with understanding.

Suddenly there was a banging on the door, and Private FitzSimmons came in breathlessly.

"Doctor, Major! Come quickly!"

There was only one thing he might have been referring to, and they followed him back into the hospital ward. He stood at the door and simply pointed to the end bed.

"There!"

Hawkeye's soft, kind, smiley brown eyes looked up at them. He looked exhausted.

"Hawkeye! It's good to have you back, son."

Hawkeye opened his mouth to reply, but found he had no strength, nor breath in him.

"I…I…I…" That was as much as he could manage, and he fell back against his pillows. The Colonel turned to the young soldier, crouched beside the bed, still wrapped in his army issue robe.

"Private, would you excuse us for a while? You can come back to see him later."

"Yes sir."

The young man shuffled out hurriedly, and the Colonel turned his attention to Hawkeye.

"You gave us all a scare, Pierce."

He glanced at Margaret.

"Go pass the word to Sid would you Major? You can tell BJ that Hawk's come round, but no one is to come in here until Doctor Freedman or I say it's okay. That means _nobody!_ Is that understood?"

"Yes sir." Houlihan hurried away. A few moments later, from somewhere in the compound he could hear BJ's yell of delight, followed swiftly by a soft tap on the wooden screen, and Sidney popped his head round the corner.

"Colonel?"

"Come along in Sidney. Here's your patient. Physically he's very weak, but otherwise fine. We'll keep a close watch on him for a few days to make sure there will be no more complications. He's all yours."

The Colonel disappeared, and Sidney pulled up the stood close beside the bed. Hawkeye's eyes were closed and he appeared to be sleeping, but as soon as Sidney touched his hand, he opened his eyes. Sidney smiled broadly at his old friend.

"I sometimes wonder if you pull off these stunts just to stop the camp from getting too bored around here. Is that it?"

Hawkeye gave a weak grin and managed to shake his head slightly.

"H…h…how l…"

His voice gave out, but Sid guessed correctly what it was he had been trying to ask.

"You've been in a coma for eight days, Hawk."

Hawkeye was stunned. A _coma?_ He had been in a coma for eight _whole days_? What the hell had happened? Try as he might, he could not remember what could possibly have happened to put him in a coma. He could guess why Sid was here though, apart from the obvious step of visiting a sick friend, as a surgeon he had to be mentally A1 otherwise he'd be shipped home. That would be good, except that if he _was_ judged mentally incapable of surgery in Korea, he would not be allowed to practice at home either. Much as he wanted to go home, he liked being a surgeon and had no wish for his chosen career to be curtailed so prematurely. Unfortunately there could be no faking anything with Sid either. Sid Freedman could see through a ten-inch plank!

Sidney could see by his friend's eyes that the mind inside was certainly active. That was encouraging. Until Hawkeye was strong enough to talk to him, there was not a great deal more he could learn. He took Hawkeye's hand in his own.

"Hey Hawkeye, you've been through a lot the last few days. You take your time and get your strength back, alright? Colonel Potter has banned visitors until you're ready for it, so get some sleep. I'll be back later."

Hawkeye nodded, somehow reassured, and Sidney crept away softly. Houlihan was on duty at the other end of the ward, filling out paperwork with one eye, while she watched her patients with the other. She looked round as Sidney came up to her.

"How did you make out doctor?"

He grinned.

"Never you mind, Major!" he replied good-humouredly. "Orders as the Colonel said. Absolutely NO visitors. I've left him to rest a little, but keep your eye on him all the same."

Margaret nodded efficiently and smiled and once again picked up her pen. Sidney made his way to Colonel Potter's office. The Colonel was waiting for him with a tot of whisky.

"Here Sid. Celebration."

Sid accepted the drink gratefully and gulped hit down. The Colonel eyed him gravely.

"So, what's the verdict so far?"

Sidney shrugged.

"Too early to tell Colonel. At the moment he's still drugged with sleep, if you know what I mean, and he's too weak to talk. The quicker he recovers, the better his prospects will be, but you know as well as I his chances of coming out of this unscathed are only so-so."

Potter nodded.

"I realize that Sidney, but you know the man possibly better than any of us. Can't you make an educated guess and let me off these tenterhooks?"

Sidney laughed.

"I'm sorry Colonel. I _can_ tell you that his mind is active. The first thing he wanted to know, which he wasn't quite able to ask by the way, was how long had it been. I told him he had been in a coma for eight days. I could tell from the look on his face that he was immediately aware of all the implications of that, even in his state. Between you and me Colonel, I'm pretty sure he still has all his marbles, but I need to talk to him properly to be absolutely certain of it. On the other hand, whether his memory, and by that I mean his knowledge of surgery, is concerned, only he will know."

Try as he might, Hawkeye's eyes would not close, to sleep. In some strange way, he was relieved. He understood the medical details about coma, but facing it personally was not the same. He could not help being afraid that if he went back to sleep again, it might be another eight days before he woke up again…if ever. Nurse Kelleye was on duty in Post Op that night, along with Major Winchester. Kelleye was, as ever, the complete professional, betraying nothing whatsoever of her personal feelings to any of the patients.

By the evening of the following day, Hawkeye could feel himself starting to wake up again. He started to notice things going on around him, and he was starting to take an interest. By the following morning, he was already beginning to feel restless. When Margaret came on duty, she knew very quickly that Hawkeye was feeling a lot more himself, because he was already starting to argue with the staff about his own care. Doctor Hunnicut listened very astutely as Winchester updated him on all the patients in the hospital, and when they reached the end bed, where Hawkeye lay, he found he was having trouble concentrating.

Hawkeye, being Hawkeye was not content to simply lie down obediently. He was feeling fine, and wanted to be up and about. So he propped himself up on one elbow and started making faces at Winchester, doing his best to provoke the man. Margaret watched the scene with mixed feelings. This part of Pierce's personality had always irritated her beyond measure, but she rejoiced to see it now. Whatever scars he might suffer because of his injuries, his personality did not seem to have altered a jot.

When Winchester was gone, BJ made his rounds of all the patients, making sure that Pierce was the last. When he got to him, Hawkeye was lying on his back staring up at the ceiling, frowning slightly.

"Hawk?"

Hawkeye brought his gaze down to his friend's face and smiled.

"Beej."

"Do you remember anything about what happened?"

"Not a damn thing."

"Doesn't matter. Maybe it'll come back."

"So what _did_ happen BJ?"

"You were attacked on your way back from Seoul."

" _Attacked?_ "

"Hit by sniper and mortar fire. The rest came about as a direct result."

"`The rest'? Come on Beej, surely I have a right to know exactly how much trouble I caused you guys?"

"Alright."

BJ laid down the chart on the bed and sat down beside it.

"Alright Hawk, I'll tell you. Klinger and I went looking for you when you didn't get back, and we found you lying underneath your jeep. Your legs were trapped, but they suffered only bruising. It was freezing cold, and you must have been stuck there for some time because you were frozen when we found you. You had two bullet wounds that had become infected, a banged up head, multiple fragment wounds from the shell, and severe blast trauma. Later you developed a form of Korean infection that complicated everything. You're a lucky man to be still alive. A number of times we thought we were going to lose you. If we seem to you a little too protective or mothering, you've got to remember that while you were having a nice long sleep, we were getting almost no sleep at all!"

That afternoon, doctor Sidney Freedman visited Hawkeye, with strict instructions that they not be interrupted for any reason, and once the privacy screens were around the bed, he settled down to chat with the patient.

The rest of the 4077th were keenly aware of the importance of this interview, and for Hawkeye's sake and their own, they all fervently hoped that the psychiatrist would find Hawkeye fit for duty.

The two hours seemed to take hours to pass by, and everyone was on tenterhooks by the time Sid left Hawkeye's side and made his way to the Colonel's office.

Colonel Potter invited Sidney to sit and, pouring him a drink, said in a bland voice;

"Well?"

Doctor Freedman took a deep breath and stroked his chin.

"To be honest with you Sherman, I'm not sure."

Colonel Potter was not reassured.

"That sounds ominous."

Sidney shrugged his shoulders.

"Not necessarily. It's a difficult thing to tell for sure by just one conversation. I mean, we're not talking about daily existence here. If I rule him fit for duty, he'll once more have people's lives in his hands. If I turned out to be in error, then any loss of life will be on my head. Not on his. As you've probably noticed, he seems completely normal when you talk to him about everyday stuff, but there is something slightly amiss. I'm not sure yet quite what it is. Whether it's…I don't know. It could be anything, but I'm sure I'm not mistaken about it. Whether it's some latent disability caused by his injuries or by the coma, or some level of memory loss I don't know. It could mean some slight brain damage. I need to find out exactly how he's been affected, before I can even think of allowing him to return to active status."

"What's the window for these things Sid? The army would sooner try to replace him than have to wait too long."

"I know. We have a little time. Believe me, I know that it's his whole life on the line here, not just his army service."

Colonel Potter visited Hawkeye in Post Op and found him sitting on the edge of his bed, chin in his hands and glaring at the wall in front of him with a fierceness that was quite unlike his usual self.

"Hello son."

"Colonel." Hawkeye did not even turn his head in acknowledgement. Colonel Potter rubbed his nose thoughtfully and sat down beside him.

"I just came by to see how you're doing Hawkeye."

"Oh great Colonel! Great! Just peachy!" Hawkeye's voice reeked with sarcasm.

The Colonel put a hand on Hawkeye's shoulder.

"Come on Hawkeye, how confident are you about your medical skills? Are you afraid there may be any gaps in your knowledge? Things you've forgotten?"

"Colonel, how the hell can I answer that? If I've forgotten something, how will I know it's missing until I need it?"

"Sidney's only doing his job, son. You've said yourself that Sid's the best."

"He is, and he's also ruthless when he thinks he needs to be. If I can't convince him that I'm fit for duty, he'll send me down and my career as a surgeon will be down the toilet."

Hawkeye looked round at the Colonel for the first time, and Potter was shocked to see tears threatening.

"All I ever wanted was to be a doctor, Colonel. I can't do anything else. I don't know how."

Potter knew he had to help the man get some perspective before he spiraled down into depression.

"Look Hawkeye, I've spoken to Sidney. I know he's worried about you, but even if you have lost a little of your memory, we can help you by testing you out on the medical stuff. You had so much to start with, maybe anything you've lost won't make much difference, especially if it's something you can re-learn. Even if you are sent down in the end, you can learn to do something else. You were very nearly a dead man."

Hawkeye thought about that. A dead man. No more Hawkeye Pierce. He forced himself to think about what his father would be going through now if he _had_ been killed out there on the road. Would he rather die than lose his medical career? Before coming to Korea, he would have said `yes!' without batting an eyelid. It had always been so important to him. Now though, he wasn't so certain. The war had made him a lot more appreciative of life, in a way he could never have been otherwise. He thought back to the occasion a few months ago when a gas heater in one of the nurse's tents had exploded in his face, and for two or three days he had been faced with the very real possibility of losing his sight. Not his life, just his sight. That would definitely have put paid to his medical career, and yet he had found a way to face the possibility with courage and even humour. How could this situation compare in any way with the life he might have been living now if he _had_ lost his eyesight? He realized with a start that he had already started himself on the first steps into a deep chasm that he would never climb out of if he didn't do something now. He looked up and found that Colonel Potter had crept away to leave him to think in privacy. But Hawkeye now knew what he had to do.

That afternoon, Major Houlihan helped Hawkeye to dress, surprised at how weak he was. She was shocked, and had to remind herself that he had eaten nothing for nine days, only being fed through tubes, and so was bound to be a little weak. She helped him to his feet and he leaned on her, rather heavily, but refused to sit in a wheelchair.

"Pierce, you've only just woken up from a coma! No one expects you to be on your feet yet!"

He smiled mischievously at her.

"Come on Margaret. You excel with the personal touches…and this is a _lot_ more personal than a wheelchair!"

She rolled her eyes, trying not to smirk herself, and supporting him sturdily, she led him slowly across the compound and into the mess tent.

They were greeted with a cheer from all sides. Hawkeye glanced around the tent and raised a hand in acknowledgement. BJ collected his meal for him they joined Colonel Potter at his table. Margaret, Winchester, Klinger, Mulcahy and Sid Freedman were all grouped around the same table. Hawkeye glanced at his plate and sighed. He had not yet regained his appetite, and the sight of the grayish mush in front of him did not help matters.

"I see nothing has changed around here while I've been laid up."

He picked up his fork and with a deep breath, transported some of it to his mouth. He winced slightly, but started to chew nonetheless. The Colonel narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Are you feeling alright, Pierce?"

Pierce looked up in some surprise.

"I could do with real food, but otherwise fine sir. Why do you ask?"

"You look tired."

"Tired?" Klinger looked startled. "Colonel, Hawkeye's had more sleep than Rip Van Winkle! How can he be tired?"

"He still needs his sleep Corporal. Hawkeye?"

Avoiding Freedman's eye, Hawkeye shrugged.

"I guess I am a little tired…"

At his end of the table, Sidney listened, noting also how Hawkeye failed even once to look in his direction. He was not upset. He was secretly relieved. Perhaps he had the key to Hawkeye's problem.

Pierce was the guest of honour, and he lived up to it as best he could, but he was secretly relieved to get back to bed. He was unspeakably grateful to get back to his own little cot in the _Swamp_ , which, although hard and unyielding, represented home.

He wakened early the next morning and set himself to work. When BJ and Sid Freedman woke up a few hours later, they found Hawkeye perched on the edge of his bed, surrounded by medical books. He had a notebook and a pen and was making rapid notes in it, referring to his medical books and writing rapdily again. He did not look up from his work. BJ exchanged a look with the psychiatrist. Sid nodded slightly, smiling.

Three days later, Sidney acknowledged a knock on the door of his quarters. He had been using the VIP tent for the last two days. Hawkeye opened the door and came in.

"You sent for me Sidney?"

Sidney nodded.

"ICORPS are demanding my final judgment on your mental fitness by the end of the week."

Hawkeye nodded. He had known this moment would come and although he no longer had any doubts himself about his mental fitness, it was Sid's opinion not his that would carry weight with ICORPS. He sat down and Sidney sat opposite.

"I know Hawkeye that you are keyed up about convincing me to let you stay, so to put you out of your misery, don't be. I need you...you need to be absolutely honest with me. "

"I'm always honest with you Sidney."

"So tell me how you're feeling now?"

"How I'm feeling!? Sidney I feel like I am being punished! I'm a victim here, just like all the other poor souls who come through here! I know being a surgeon means I'm supposed to be sound in mind, but look at Frank Burns! He was the least sound-in-mind person I've ever met and he got promoted!"

"What about your medical knowledge Hawkeye? Is all your medical knowledge intact? You need to use your judgement on which surgical technique to use. Those things can mean a man's life. Is all of that intact? Do you still have the same expertise you had before? Be honest with me Hawkeye. If I rule you okay for surgery, then I become responsible if I turn out to be wrong. I know your future career is at stake, but your career is not important compared to the chances of someone dying under your care if I make the wrong decision now."

Hawkeye was stunned into silence. Was his knowledge intact? Was he the same man he had been before? Was he prepared to make the casualties suffer for the sake of his own pride and ego? For the sake of his own desires? Was it a chance worth taking, the possibility that he could inadvertently be the cause of someone's death? Fighting the tears and the lump that now constricted his throat, he forced out the truth.

"I really don't know Sid. Ever since I woke up from my coma I've been searching through all my old medical books, searching my memory, making notes and I still don't know. It took me years to learn all this stuff!If I've lost something, it could take me weeks to find it. I might not realise what I've lost until I have someone's life in my hands...I can't take that chance can I?"

Sidney Freedman nodded somberely.

"Very well Hawkeye, it seems I have made my decision. Would you like to come with me to the Colonel's office? The proper place for me to give you both my recommendation is there, and I can't properly give you my decision without your senior officer being present."

Numbly Hawkeye nodded, and blindly he followed the psychiatrist across the compound, seeing everyone and everything only mistily. A myriad thoughts went through his mind, prominent among them was what kind of career would he now be suited for? Waitering? Shop assistant? Gardening perhaps? What would...

Suddenly he found himself inside the Colonel's office and offered a seat. Sidney had handed Potter his official written recommendation and Potter was reading it solemnly. Then Potter and Sid were both smiling as the paper was handed on to him to read. He shook his head. He couldn't possibly open his eyes. He'd give himself away!

"Can you read it to me Colonel?"

Potter smiled and shook his head.

"I think Pierce has something wrong with his vision temporarily, Sidney, perhaps you would...?"

Sidney took the paper back and cleared his throat. Pierce held his breath, preparing to hear the truth. He was being sent down.

"...I Doctor Sidney Freedman, Psychiatrist on station at the Mobile Army Surgical Hospital 4077 Unit have duly undertaken a full and complete physical and psychological examination of Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce in the wake of his serious injuries in the line of duty, and I hereby find that he is a capable surgeon, possessed of his full mental capacities. I hereby recommend that his status as a surgeon be fully recognised as A1 and his continued assignment to the aforementioned MASH unit be immediately confirmed...signed...etc!"

Hawkeye stared at the two men, realisation slowly dawning. He rounded on Sid.

"Sidney, you asked me if all my knowledge was intact and I had to tell you that I didn't know. For all I know it might not be! I'm grateful for your recommendation, but why?"

Sidney smiled.

"Hawkeye, I remember telling the Colonel here right at the beginning that I was certain you had suffered some slight brain damage, perhaps slight memory loss or something, but I have no doubts about you now. You're quite right that whatever it is you'll find out eventually, but the important thing is that you are aware that you may be lacking somewhere and the thought of it bothers the hell out of you. Every day since you started recovering I have watched you studying hard for hours at a time, checking your knowledge, checking your memory. Then just now your reaction confirmed what I have known all along. That at the end of the day you care about your patients more than you care about yourself. What more can we expect of any doctor? If you find halfway through an important operation that you can't remember the next step...what would you do?"

"Send a nurse for my text book and in the meatime ask one of the other doctors for assistance."

"You're in the hospital and you can't remember the name of the drug a patient needs, or you can't remember the dosage?"

"Hopefully I will have the sense to have researched ahead of time on their conditions, and checked their charts, but there are three other doctors to check with."

Hawkeye pulled a notebook out of his pocket, with a pencil attached to it with a small piece of string. The pages were clear.

"I've started carrying this around with me to use in case I discover something I've lost. I haven't yet, but..."

Colonel Potter grinned at doctor Freedman.

"You were right about him Sid. You said you thought he was absolutely the same man he was, and you were right!"

Grinning along with the Colonel, Sid leaned forward and plucked the notebook out of Hawkeye's hands.

"I wouldn't worry about that, Hawk." he said. "In my professional judgement, I think you just won't need it."

the end


End file.
